


All I Should Have Said

by VergerBloom



Category: Carry On - Fandom, Wayward Son - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Declarations Of Love, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romantic Fluff, They really needed to talk, resolved tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 20:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20823647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VergerBloom/pseuds/VergerBloom
Summary: A rewrite of Simon and Baz's conversation on the beach in the final scene of the epilogue of Wayward Son. Simon and Baz finally resolve the tension and talk about their feelings.





	All I Should Have Said

I see Baz coming towards me just as I see the wave, deciding to let it roll over my legs, darkening my jeans. I smile despite myself; it’s all so absurd - last night we were fighting vampires, today we’re acting as though we’re on vacation. Well I suppose we sort of were. It feels like a lifetime ago since we arrived in America. It’s so different here; everything feels vast and expansive, drawn out. 

Baz smiles down at me, He’s wearing a cheap blue shirt Penny bought him from Walmart, and no shoes, his black hair pooling at the nape of his neck. Like a rogue moviestar. I have to squint to look at him. 

Another wave crashes in, stronger than the last. Baz jumps to avoid it. I laugh, the sound carrying on the wind. He sits a little behind me, on the dunes, the wind whipping his long hair. I struggle to take my eyes off him. 

I suddenly remember what I’ve been meaning to tell him since we left the hotel. I reach into my jean pocket and take out the sheer strip of fabric, holding it out to him. “You left this back in Vegas, I thought you’d want it.”

Baz’s eyes light up. “My mother’s scarf!” It breaks my heart a little, how relieved he looks. I place it into his open palm, the blue silk grazing my skin like water. 

“I’ve been meaning to give it to you for a while, but with everything going on…”

He nods, his expression still warm. “I can’t believe I left it at the hotel,” he shakes his head. 

“Well, you were a little preoccupied…” I sound jaded, but I can’t help it. I can’t shake the way Baz was looking at Lamb, like he held the key to all the answers he’d been looking for. The way he used to look at me. 

It was the wrong thing to say. “Don’t do that, Simon,” he says quietly, his eyes downcast. Hurt. I know that look, it’s how he used to look at me at Watford, when we fought. When he couldn’t quite hide how much my words cut.

“Do what?” I reply, knowing that we’re about to fight and hating the fact that I don’t know how to stop it, make things okay. Perhaps, in a way, I want the tension to break, for him to explode at me. I’m tired of tiptoeing around this, whatever this is - tired of the quiet utterances and sideways glances and never feeling good enough. Let’s fight. It’s what I’m good at, after all.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be like this...To have to hide.”

I turn to him. “Oh, _ I _ don’t know what it’s like to have to hide?”, I gesture wildly to my wings and tail. “Do you know what it’s like to feel like _ this _? To lose everything that made you who you are?” My voice is getting shrill.

“Yes, actually, I do!” He finally looks at me, eyes pained but defiant. “The day I was bitten, I lost control of myself, my life. And coming here…” he gestures to the bleach white sand, “it’s the first time in my life that I’ve actually felt like I can move on, take the control back.”

“Why don’t you just stay here then, Baz?!” I sound like a petulant child, I know, but I can’t stop. “If Penny and I make you feel like such an outsider, how about you just move over here with Lamb and the rest of _them_?” Another wave crashes in. “He said it best himself, you know - I’m disfigured.”

“_ Crowley _, Simon…”

“What?” I hate that my voice is breaking. “I’m not like you; I didn’t walk away from the battle unscathed.” I’m not sure which battle I’m talking about. I feel everything I’ve been keeping in for the past year start to unravel. It’s cathartic, almost, like breaking the dam and letting the tirade of water out. “I’m broken, and I’ll always be broken…” I feel tears on my cheeks. Water drenches my legs. “I can’t keep feeling like some liability, Baz...like you’re only keeping me around because I remind you of something you used to love.”

“Simon!” Baz’s voice cuts through the wind. He takes my face in his hands, roughly, and turns me towards him so that our eyes have to meet. I’ve never seen him like this; his skin is so pale, and his features are dulled with pain, like he’s been struck. “Merlin and Morgana, Simon, I _ love _ you, can’t you see that?” His grip is vice-like, like he’s worried I’ll run if he doesn’t keep hold of me. “Seeing you there, on the ground…” he’s holding me too tight, he’s going to leave a mark. “Lamb, Nownext, none of it fucking mattered. They could’ve done anything to me, then, and it wouldn’t have hurt me the way that hurt me,” his eyes are fierce now, like he needs me to understand. “You could never be a liability, Simon, you understand?” he bumps his forehead against mine, almost as though he’s exhausted. 

“Baz…”

“_ No _, Simon, no more pretences. Not after they almost took you from me.” He drags his eyes up to mine. “From now on, I’m keeping you this close,” Our foreheads are still together. “Where they can’t hurt you.”

“_Baz_,” my voice catches. His eyes are fragile, like what I say next could break him. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to..." To hurt him. To doubt him. I breathe in. Then, “I love you.” It's harder than any spell I've ever cast.

His eyes soften. His face falls into the crook of my neck. I gather him into my arms. 

“Of course I love you,” I mumble, and as I say it I realise how much I do. How much I always did. How determined I am to keep him this close, from now on. I didn't realise how much the distance was killing me.

I press my face into his hair. It smells like salt and bergamot. Another wave hits. Neither of us move. 

We stay like that for a long time, until the heat of the midday sun sears my neck, until the tide comes in. I let it wash over me, the heat and the water. I can barely feel it.

Finally, Baz sits up a little, still keeping our faces close. His eyes are still red, but there’s a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Gently, he takes me by the neck and presses his lips against mine. It’s a soft kiss, and clumsy, like the first time we kissed, in the woods, years ago. Except nothing’s on fire this time, and when he deepens the kiss, I let him. I let go.

**Author's Note:**

> I loved Wayward Son overall but the cliffhanger killed me; I reaaaally needed Simon and Baz to talk about their feelings and this is kind of the result of that. 
> 
> Thank you for reading - prompts are always welcome. :)


End file.
